"The storm was the least of their worries. Someway, somehow, for some reason, giant water elementals, air elementals, and perhaps even some electricity elementals ravaged their way into Jiyyd. No one has found out how they begun appearing where the well once stood. Dozens of them, each one more furious and deadly then the last."
From Nathen Wingates' view…
_Deacon Sterr and Drelan Ashire of the black sails, along others, Mirkali Vragnorich of the bardic college, Sy'wyn Blackwood of his familey tree, Jirka Larkur of the dwarven priesthood, Merin the hin sorceror, Vroka the priestess, accompanied by many more defended the town valiantly. The guards were not present, just outside the gates on his rock, a young orange haired bard glances up as the skies begin to pour cats and dogs.
Thunder, lightning, earth shakes, this is no ordinairy storm. A lightning strike hits inside the town walls – Quickly, the bard steps up on a rock, peeking his head over the gate. "Nate, get in here, help!" Shouts the hin sorcerer, tapping the weave and unleashing a magic missle on the never-ending summons that are appearing in the center of the town.
"I can't, I'm banned, Merin!" He replies, the hin scoffs and shakes his head. "Nevermind it, come on!" He takes a look around, that's funny, no guards, no legion members. Gritting his teeth, he hops the gate, stumbling and beginning to sing and heal the group of warriors, wizards, and priests. Deacon Sterr fights at the front, wielding his rapier and scimitar, fighting like a true swasbuckler. Merin the sorcerer stays in the back, he casts various spells to weaken the summoned forces.
...The banned, orange haired bard named Nate is seen healing several wounded folks, but let's pay him no heed. I doubt he's very important, dear reader. Let's take a look at the other defenders...
Tolin is also with them, he uses fire magic to the full extent of it's explosive power, unleashing several fire arrows on the hordes of monsters, as well as fireballs. Vroka is also there, praying hard to Chauntea in hopes to stop the seemingly eternal invasion. Mirkali Vragnorich the purple bard dual wields his light weapons, singing and attacking the beasts, using his cursed lyrics time and time again, healing when he's able.
More water, electric, and air elementals appear. The air flickers, unstable, heavy and blurry, electricity visible... The ground is shaking... The rain is pounding down on the warzone...
The battle wages, and wages still. At least two hours pass, and still the beasts keep coming. It seems that it will never end. Jiyyd's future is not looking anything but grim. Mirkali is seen putting on a silly looking green hat and shouting nonsense. "CARIBOOOOO!" Warriors are on the floor, gritting their teeth, barely able to hold their weapons amisdt the chaos.
But look! Vroka begins to kneel, praying to chauntea. "Back yu demons! Back! Me is sorrus Chaunteas for suspectins ye! Please helps us!" She prays, and prays hard, let me tell you. She continues like this, the noble half-orc, ignoring the obvious danger of kneeling down in the middle of a fight.
Suddenly, a giant rift of pure light opens up -- More summons on the way? Nay! Gritting her large ugly orcish teeth, Vroka channels Chauntea's divine energy, her fingers wry, focused. She closes the rift just as soon as it opens. The light dissapears. The air clears.
The valiant warriors take time to catch their breaths... a thump is heard... Vroka is on the ground. Everyone circles around her. Is she alright? She's still breathing... they take her to the "healing wonders" shop.
In the back-ground, the orange haired bard approaches a blond, unshaved man named Mirkali, lowering his voice to a whisper. Mirkali nods. And the two un-noticable men take their leave before any watchmen can arrive to say 'hello'...
Jiyyd is safe._
((Thanks Gobble, you rock! :boogie: :w00t: ))
